


The Myeuh-Muh Effect

by shadesfalcon



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Clint Barton & Darcy Lewis Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-16
Updated: 2014-11-16
Packaged: 2018-02-25 14:29:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2625155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadesfalcon/pseuds/shadesfalcon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Darcy accidentally shoots Tony and one time she means to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Myeuh-Muh Effect

**Author's Note:**

> Look I wrote a 5+1!  
> ....yeah, I promise I'll write something longer than 2k soon. I'm stuck in a weird ficlet rut.  
> Also, credit to pr4villains on tumblr for the idea.

Honestly, everyone had expected Darcy and Clint to become fast friends. It was probably something about the klutz vs. hero thing they both had going. Therefore, it was inevitable that the day came when Clint put a bow in her hand.

“Ok,” he laughed. “See, it’s upside down right now.”

“I’ve totally seen you use it like this before!”

“Yeah, ok, while it’s entirely possible that something weird happened in the middle of a fight, _you_ are not at all qualified to hold it like that. Seriously. You’re hurting me.”

Darcy obligingly flips the bow, and Clint winces dramatically at her hand placement. Darcy rolls her eyes.

“When I asked you to show me how to shoot, I didn’t think you’d take the opportunity to _mock_ me.”

“Yeah you did. Now, move this hand up. And stop doing that with your fingers. This isn’t a set of chopsticks.”

“Oh is that how you’re supposed to hold chopsticks?! I’ve never figured those out either.”

Clint lets that one go, though he files it away for future bantering. He continues to struggle with her grip, and eventually gets it to his satisfaction. Then Clint steps back to sit on the table, eyeing her stance critically.

“Ok. Then you draw and fire.”

Her fingers slip into the wrong position as she nocks the arrow and draws. Clint rolls his eyes again. With a stability like that, the arrow’s not going to go more than a foot. Which is why he’d felt perfectly confident letting this happen in his apartment in the Avengers tower. It wasn’t like-

“Shit!” he shouts, almost falling on his ass in his haste to get off the table.

The arrow Darcy fires definitely goes more than a foot. It flies eleven feet and pierces through the full-wall glass window. Clint watches in horror as it begins its descent.

“What do we do?” shouts Darcy, standing like she’s expecting to get tackled by a line-backer.

“Pray it doesn’t kill anyone.”

Fortunately, the arrow does not, in fact, kill anyone. It does, however, go through Tony’s shoulder. He’s standing out on the steps, giving an impromptu press release, when it happens. This means that Darcy’s wild arrow-from-nowhere is caught on camera as it flies down and through his shoulder.

He’s just made a particularly sassy comeback to some poor reporter from Antlers, Oklahoma, who didn’t deserve it, when the tip appears in the fabric on the front of his suit. He’s thrown forward with the weight of it, and he pales suddenly, falling silent.

The entirety of SHIELD goes on red alert in the next few moments. Security and secret security and super-secret security (Tony hadn’t even known about those) are all rushing to get him inside and looking around for the shooter, guns in hand.

Steve Rogers, _Captain Freaking America_ , is in the middle of a briefing about the beginnings of the hunt, directed at the remaining Avengers team, when the shooter in question arrives. Followed by her red-faced accomplice.

The entire thing ends up being funny only because Tony has no major injuries and is expected to make a full recovery. That and it’s _Darcy_ , after all. She’d been forced to endure a few off-color comments from Stark in the past. It’s almost karma, really.

***

“You’re sure?” she asks again. They’re out on Clint’s farm for a mini-vacation. The rest of the Avengers, including Thor which was unexpected, are camped out back at the house. Clint has decided to take the opportunity to bring Darcy out to shoot at actual targets this time. Clint has learned his lesson about glass houses.

“Yes, I’m sure. What are you going to shoot? A wild turkey?”

“No!” Darcy shouts. “I don’t want to kill a turkey. Even though they’re really ugly. It’s just not nice! It’s out here minding their own business, and some random girl puts an arrow through its head? That’s not fair! I’m not even a good shot! It deserves to die with dignity.”

She’s screaming now, over the imaginary turkey, and Clint is laughing his ass off.

“Darce. There are no turkeys out here. Not these days. It was a joke. Now just shoot the damn arrow. Besides, you know what they say about beginners luck? There’s no way you get a shot like that off again. No matter how lucky you are.”

“Wasn’t lucky,” she murmurs grumpily. She’d thought she was going to have to donate a vital organ to Stark, to make up for her useless klutzy shot. Thank goodness he’d been fine. Even if he does play it up sometimes.

_Hey Darcy, can you grab me that glass of water? No? But….but my shoulder hurts soooo bad._

Fuck that. She draws the bow with a deep breath.

“Better,” Clint tells her. “Fingers still aren’t right but-”

He cuts himself off as the arrow is loosed. Flying straight and high. Fast, too. It flies way past the target, disappearing into the high grass behind.

“Uh,” he asks. “Are you sure you’ve never-”

This time, it’s a scream that cuts him off. Darcy drops the bow and Clint shoots off running. He leaps into the brush and almost trips over Tony, who has an arrow imbedded in his upper back.

“Well,” Clint says calmly. “That was unlikely. You thought you’d just take a walk?”

“Barton!”

“Oh, relax. It’s caught on your scapula. Didn’t get anything vital at all. Most of us would walk away from a wound like that.”

“I am _not_ a super-soldier-assassin-spy!”

“Don’t I know it.” He sighs exaggeratedly, and helps Tony to his feet.

***

He’s managed to get the bow into her hand, but it’s just hanging there from her fingers. She physically steps back every time he even tries to give her the arrow.

“Yeah. It’s a shooting range. There’s a wall and range rules and shit. Look, I’ll admit you had some weird coincidences. But just because you flip a coin ten times and it comes up heads all ten times, doesn’t mean it’s always gonna be heads.”

“You’re saying there’s a 50/50 chance I’ll hit Tony again?” she shrieks.

“What? No! I’m saying sometimes weird stuff just happens. Stark was fine, so don’t worry about it anymore.” He finally succeeds in getting the arrow into her hand. “You’re not going to be able to shoot him in here. It’s a shooting range. It’s specifically designed for this.”

“Fine.” She gives in with a glare, and gently nocks the arrow and draws. She hesitates, then. Conditioning warring in the back of her mind. What if…?

There’s a loud bang behind them, and both their heads turn to locate its source. Tony has slammed through the door, something in his hands that he’s obviously desperate to show off/try out.

Clint’s face physically pales when he sees him, and his hands jerks toward Darcy. But it’s too late. In her startled reaction she’d half-turned and let the string go.

The arrow ricochets off the concrete wall, but still finds its home in Tony. Who has turned around to try and run from the arrow. Which means the arrow plants itself firmly in his ass.

That evening, Bruce sets aside a corner of his lab devoted solely to finding out why Darcy keeps shooting Tony. When asked about it, he shrugs and says, “Just seems a little too unnatural for me.”

Tony spends the next several weeks glaring at Darcy and making assassin jokes. Eventually, Darcy gets mad and makes an “ass”assin joke right back.

***

Really, Clint is disobeying a direct order. Director Fury had told them all that Darcy was _not_ to handle any archery equipment for the foreseeable future. In fact, Clint had it on good authority (Natasha) that Tony’s file had been updated. The section marked “in case of betrayal” had previously housed a list of known Iron Man weaknesses, known associates ect. Now, the final line simply reads, “Get Darcy.”

But Clint doesn’t really believe it. And even if he does, he’s making her use a practice bow and arrow. A little play thing of a string and an arrow that couldn’t kill someone unless you stuck it in their eye.

They’re down in the Avengers basement, where Tony and Bruce do all their more “heavy-duty” experiments. Meaning anything that requires heavy machinery. The whole room is enclosed by concrete and steel. It’s a veritable bunker.

Eventually, his reassurances get her to notch, draw, fire.

The arrow flies fast. Fast enough the Clint cocks his head to the side in personal offence. _He_ couldn’t have gotten a shot like that off of that crappy little bow.

A few seconds later he realizes what that weird machine in the corner actually does. It sucks up objects and spits them out at a higher velocity. Like, muli-mach velocity.

It shouldn’t be a surprise when the arrow goes straight up through the ceiling/floor and pierces Tony’s shoe. It’s a good thing that he’s wearing thick soles and that it’s a dull arrow, otherwise it would have been through his foot. As it is, it barely draws blood.

By the end of the day, both Tony and Bruce have sections of their labs devoted to unraveling the phenomenon. Even Jane makes a few inquiries.

***

Inevitably, she gets pissed at Tony. It’s eight months out from the last incident, and she hasn’t touched a bow since. But he’d set Jane on that project three weeks ago, and today they’d come back with results just to learn Tony had solved the problem four days ago.

“Oh. Did I ask you to work on that?” he asks. “Shit, that would have been nice to remember. I’ve been struggling with that for weeks.”

No apology. No anything.

Darcy had had to force-feed Jane turkey sandwiches. _Several times_. That woman did not take care of herself during a project.

So she’s stomping around the tower and decides to head up to Clint’s room. He’s not there of course, probably down at the stupid gala with the other Avengers. Or hiding in the vents and watching. Three-piece-suit and all.

As suspected, Clint’s apartment is empty. And there’s his bow and quiver lying on the table. Then it’s in her hand, and she refuses to think the idea through. The grip feels more familiar, not like the practice bow had, and she aims carefully at the floor.

She doesn’t quite believe the whole thing is inevitable. Not right now, at least. Besides, it’s not like the last one _actually_ hit him. Just his shoe.

She fires the arrow straight down into the wooden floor.

Except, Clint didn’t have his normal arrows set. She’s unknowingly shot a 6-bounce rubber tip, and it does exactly as its name indicates.

By the 6th bounce, the arrow has made its way downstairs, and it hits Tony’s head hard enough that he jerks sideways into the wall. He ends up unconscious and with a massive concussion.

After he wakes up, Tony (and Bruce) both stay up several nights in a row to focus on nothing but the universe’s purported “hit” out on Tony Stark. In the end, they determine it has something to do with Darcy’s strange affection toward Mjolnir.

“Meaning what?” Darcy asks.

“Well,” Bruce sighs. “In short, Miss Lewis. It likes you back.”

“Myeuh-Muh?”

“Mjolnir. Yes. Add that into the disturbing amount of ill-will directed at Tony Stark and-”

“I don’t have any ill will for Tony! I don’t have ill-will for anybody! Except maybe that guy at the movie ticket booth who _always_ makes a jerkwad comment whenever I go there alone.”

“It’s not ill-will that _you_ bear. In fact, I think it’s more what you just said. You don’t bear _anyone_ ill will. Not even the, um, ‘jerkwad.’ Not really. So the ‘effect’ spreads outward from you. Seeking a target. And since you know Tony pretty well, and Tony has generated a lot of ill-will in his lifetime…you can see the result.” He pauses for moment. "Don't...don't tell Tony. Not that last part anyway. I may have made up some shit about proximity when you first picked up a bow. For his sake. He wouldn't understand."

Darcy rolls her eyes. "If anyone hates Stark it's only because they haven't met him in the last year. Their loss. I won't spill. But, what you're saying is that it's essentially a karma thing? Except with a giant hammer.” She gasps suddenly. “It’s the Myeuh-Muh Effect!”

“Mjolnir.”

Darcy is already digging out her cellphone, and Bruce watches her bounce excitedly as she waits for the recipient to pick up.

“Clint! Guess what! I’m the creator of the Myeuh-Muh Effect!”

Bruce decides just to let it go.

***

“He’s doing _what_?” Natasha shouts.

“He’s heading toward the planning building. Whoever was ordering the troops around down here is in that top floor.”

“Yeah I know! That’s why I set a bomb to blow out the top two floors! How long till he gets there?”

In a flurry of numbers and calculations, they determine that, true to their incredibly consistent bad luck, Tony is going to land on the building in just enough time to get blown the fuck up. And his radio got destroyed way back at the beginning of the fight. Thor, the only one of them who could have moved fast enough, still hasn’t had time to get here from Asgard since the fighting started.

“How big of an explosion are we talking?” Jane asks. She looks a little worse for the wear, clutching her unexpectedly helpful tech-thingy to her chest.

“He’s going to die,” Natasha snaps back. “That suit isn’t going to protect shit up there. I didn’t know if we were dealing with a mortal or not. I went no-holds-barred.”

“Clint?”

“The only arrows I have left that’ll stop his suit are explosive. Normal arrows aren’t going to do shit!”

Darcy rushes forward in a swirl of scarf and oversized coat. She rips the bow out of Clint’s hands and fumbles to nock an “normal” arrow. The cold makes her twice as clumsy.

Clint’s hand, warm from a combination of their constant usage and his fingerless gloves, cover hers and help her get the arrow into place. Then she tilts it up to point at the sky and closes her eyes tight.

“You get him, baby hawk,” Clint says. And she looses the arrow.

There’s a ten second silence, which Darcy waits out with her eyes still tight shut and the bow still pointing at the sky.

Then, “He’s down!”

Darcy’s eyes snap open just in him for her to see Tony drop enough altitude that he hits a building, and then tumbles down along the side of it out of their view. Another ten seconds later, the building he’d been heading toward blows loud enough that even the team covers their ears.

They learn later that that the arrow had pierced through a joint of the suit near Tony’s waist, and severed the navigational aspect, dropping him like a piece of paper on the wind.

Darcy just smirks.


End file.
